


All it Takes to Need You Again

by BrittJK



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:44:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6409327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittJK/pseuds/BrittJK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on "Today was the first family gathering I’ve been to since we broke up and my little cousin that absolutely adored you asked where you were and I had to lock myself in the bathroom and sit in the tub for a half an hour and look through a folder on my phone of pictures I took of you to feel okay again¨ AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	All it Takes to Need You Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time delving into the angst of Captain Swan. But let me know what you think. I promise there is an okay-ending. :)

Emma stands outside her parent’s house, store-bought cake that she is passing off as home-made in her arms and a pit forming in her stomach. This was supposed to be a fun gathering of friends a family – a celebration of Emma’s parent’s thirty-fifth anniversary. It was supposed to be happy. And now, instead of getting to enjoy the event, Emma is going to have to suck it up and put on a smiling face even when she is breaking inside.

Killian was supposed to be here with her – making quips about how he hopes someday to achieve the love that Emma’s parents have, slyly whispering his dirty thoughts and innuendos into her ear, holding her hand and playing with her hair as they listen to the myriad of stories of Emma’s extended family. But Killian isn’t here because Emma went and fucked it up.

Damn her, damn her stupid walls and stupid emotions. They’ve been broken up for a little over a month, and yet somehow Emma seems to spend more and more time of her days thinking about how to get him back. But she can’t, because that would break everything down and force her to admit her feelings. Force her to crawl back to the only real boyfriend she had since Neal, since being a juvenile delinquent, since being rehabilitated by her parents at 17. This is easier than the heartbreak of being betrayed. Breaking your own heart is much easier than letting someone else break it for you. Right?

Emma takes a deep breath, attempting to clear her thoughts. She can do this. She can be happy at this event for just a few hours, can let her family cheer her up, can let their love and happiness fill the gaping hole in her chest.

With a deep breath, Emma lifts her hand and rings the doorbell.

////

Everything was going fantastically, at least for the first few hours. Apparently Emma’s mom had warned her family about the break-up, as absolutely no one asked where Killian was – and Emma is almost to the point of forgetting she had even planned on coming with him. The only conversations Emma was involved in either revolved around her parents, her job, or the person she was talking to. She had noticed some sad looks from distant cousins, and a few conversations halting when she walked into a room, but otherwise everything seemed normal.

Emma even successfully avoided Graham and his newly renewed flirting. When she was seventeen and first came to live with her parents, Graham had been the cute deputy working at the police station with her father. Though he had backed off once when Emma was dating Killian, it seems the rumour mill has spread and Graham is ready to pounce once again. And though Emma is interested, Graham is also a part of another life for her, and he seems so far away from who she has become.

Ruby has been a welcomed reprieve from the pitying looks and awkward conversations. The two jumped back into their easy friendship, Ruby planning fun adventures for them to partake in, only unlike when they were teenagers they can now include alcohol and clubs in the plans. The two spent a good fifteen minutes just gossiping about all the things happening in town, Ruby imparting all the knowledge she gained working at her grandmother’s diner.

But then, everything came crashing down as little Roland had bounded over to Emma. The boy is adorable, all dimples and smiles, and he gives the absolute best hugs. But the one thing Roland is not so good at is keeping his mouth shut.

“I missed you Roland!” Emma said, holding her pseudo-cousin close.

“Me too Emma!” Roland replied with a smile, before pulling back and looking around the room. “Where’s Uncle Killy? I wanted to show him my new toy ship!”

Instantly Emma froze in place, Roland barely knowing the difference as he pulled out of the hug and continued to babble about the replica ship he had gotten for his birthday and how he though Killian would be able to teach him how to sail. Ruby visibly tensed next to them, eyes going wide.

Emma could feel the panic rising, her breaths coming out in short pants. Her chest tightens and it feels like she can’t breathe, like there isn’t enough air in the room. Roland pulls back, looking up at her strangely as Emma struggles to catch her breath. She was doing so well, not even thinking of Killian for even a moment, and then –

Of course she doesn’t blame Roland, he is a kid after all, but Emma knows that the room is way too stuffy for her to breathe in right now and thoughts of Killian continue to rip through her and tear her heart back open. She stands abruptly, Roland falling to the side onto the couch.

“Emma, are you alright?” Ruby asks, concern lacing her voice.

There are people looking over now, a small commotion in her parent’s living room beginning. But Emma doesn’t notice or care – her only focus on her chest that feels like it is ripping in two. Something about the hope in Roland’s voice, the excitement over her boyfriend, it brings back memories and thoughts and everything Emma was trying to hold back from feeling to get through this stupid family event without him.

Her legs move before she realizes where she is going, tearing out of the living room and up the stairs. She faintly hears her mother’s voice calling her name, but doesn’t really notice anything else until she slams the door to her old bathroom closed, locks it, and collapses into the bathtub.

Finally Emma lets the sobs out, the ones she has been holding in for over a month now. The ones she didn’t really know she needed to let out. As the “dumper”, you shouldn’t feel this way. You shouldn’t feel like the world is tearing you apart because the person you dumped isn’t by your side anymore. But Emma’s chest feels like it is breaking in two and there are tears streaming down her face and it is a struggle to grab enough air to breath.

Emma curls up into herself, pulling her legs towards her chest and making herself as small as possible. Maybe if she is small, she can forget all of this. Maybe it won’t feel like breaking up with Killian pains her more than all those families not wanting her combined.

“Emma?” The faint sound of knocking can be heard as her mom’s comforting voice floats over the sounds of Emma’s sobs. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Emma manages to squeak out. “Be out soon.”

Though her voice is stable, the sobs that follow it show that Emma is anything but fine. Emma hears the sound of her mom sitting down next to the door, the rhythmic tapping of her fingernails against the hardwood floor. It’s comforting, a little, but not enough to quell the tears or the pain.

Emma doesn’t know what to do to compose herself to go back downstairs, doesn’t know if it is possible to fill the aching hole in her chest, so she pulls out her phone and goes into the forbidden folder on it labelled only with a single heart emoji.

The back of her mind tells Emma there is a reason she hasn’t deleted these photos, hasn’t removed all signs of Killian from her life. And yet, looking at the first photo she manages to pull up brings out a whole new ache in her chest.

Staring up at her from the small screen is three smiling faces, a selfie from the last time she and Killian had babysat little Roland. They were at an ice cream parlour, and Roland had a cone almost the size of his head and a smile that could take you to the moon and back. Emma was smiling down at Roland as he looked towards the camera, but Killian only had eyes for Emma. The look of adoration, of happiness, of contentment on her ex’s face is a look Emma could have lived off of. And yet, the photo also leaves a sour taste in her mouth. It was taken only a week before Emma broke things off.

She swipes the photo to the side, coming up to another of her and Killian standing on his ship at sunset. They are both making silly faces into the camera, and Emma lets out something between a laugh and a sob. His face is ridiculous, and it only makes her miss him more. She thinks about the night this photo was taken, how he had cooked her dinner on the ship, how they had enjoyed watching the sunset together, how Killian had taught her a bit of stargazing, and how they had ended the night making out in the middle of the ocean where no one could catch them. The memory hurt, but also calmed her down a little. But a whole new pain sets in knowing she will never experience that again.

Emma doesn’t know how long she sits there looking through photos, the sobs getting fewer and far between. At some point the tapping outside her door stops, and Emma knows her mom went back down to the party. She slowly tries to work up the courage to go back down, but her makeup is probably ruined and her dress wrinkled from sitting in the tub for so long.

At one point, Emma debates calling Killian’s phone just to hear his answering machine, knowing he wouldn’t pick up. But that idea gets nixed as soon as she realizes she doesn’t know what she would say if he actually does answer.

Instead, Emma plays through the one video on her phone she had kept of Killian. It was taken early in the morning, Emma recording Killian as he had sleep-talked after a night together a few years into their relationship, just before she broke it off. Most of the mumbling is incoherent, just a recording of the sleep-babbling she had grown to adore. But then three words stick out as the video shows her hand running through his hair. “Love you, Swan.” The words are quiet, said into his pillow more than actually to Emma. It had been the first time she had heard those words from his mouth, and somehow she had it on camera. It was a secret Emma still kept, that she had heard those words without his knowledge, but it was also the reason she had run.

Those three words could have broken her more-so than any others. And yet those three words are what caused her to break it off.

The tears are back again, but no longer in the sobs that had consumed her whole body before. No, these tears are more like grief. Her body mourning what it had, and finally realizing that she is the real coward. Apparently all it takes is a month, a comment from Roland, and a half-hour review of their relationship in photo form to realize that Emma is an idiot, and that she should never have broken it off with Killian.

He was good for her, good to her. Her smile in all the photos with Killian are ten times as bright as the smiles in photos before he was in her life. She can’t even remember what it was like before him, as he was one of the first friends Emma had made at college, and one of the first people to see past her shady history and look towards a future instead.

God, she is an idiot.

Emma lets out a laugh, finally feeling ready to go back down to the party. She knows what she has to do now, knows that she has to pull her tail between her legs and beg for forgiveness. Knows that Killian doesn’t owe her anything, but that she would give anything to say those three small words back to him.

She climbs up out of the tub, and stares at herself in the mirror. Her eyeliner is smudged, and her mascara running down her face, but overall it is something she can easily fix with make-up wipes. The red-rims to her eyes, though, those will have to stay.

As Emma cleans up, washing the make-up off of her face, there is a soft knock on the door. Emma sighs, having expected her mother to come back and check on her at some point.

“Mom, I’m coming down. I’m doing much-“

Emma’s mouth goes dry as she pulls open the door to the bathroom, the tall figure of her ex-boyfriend standing in front of her instead of her demure mother. His eyes are wide, taking in all of Emma’s dishevelled mess in front of him. Emma can feel her heart beat going wild, the hole in her chest mending itself the tiniest bit just by being in Killian’s presence. And while she manages to compose herself and hold everything together, her eyes betray her in the simplest of ways.

Killian’s hand comes up to her cheek, wiping under her eye and coming away with wetness. His eyes look sad, and at first Emma thinks it is pity. But then she realizes that his face is almost a direct mirror to her own.  

“Oh, Swan,” Killian says, his voice breaking and yet feeling like heaven to Emma’s ears. Instantly she is pulled in close, and Emma buries her face into Killian’s shoulder. His blue button down is going to be wrecked, but Emma doesn’t care as her sobs come back full force. She inhales deeply, breathing in his musky scent, the smell of salt and rum lingering on his skin as she turns her nose into his neck. His hands rub her back, a soothing circular motion.

“Your mother called,” he says, as Emma’s sobs begin to quiet down to mere hiccups. “Said I was still invited to the party even if we weren’t together.” Killian takes a deep breath, and Emma feels his chest rise and fall as he thinks of his next words. “She had also said you weren’t doing the greatest.”

Emma laughs into Killian’s neck, his words the understatement of the century. The last thirty minutes are definitely not some of Emma’s finest, but somehow they managed to bring Killian back to her. Even if only for this one short moment.

“I’m so sorry, Killian,” Emma says, not sure if he can hear her from where her head is tucked against his body. Killian doesn’t respond with words, but Emma can feel his lips placing a kiss to the crown of her head. The next words Emma isn’t sure she wants Killian to hear, but she says them anyways.

“I miss you.”

Killian again doesn’t respond, but his arms tighten around her body and Emma leans in to him just a little more.

“I’m an idiot, I’m so stupid. I thought I was doing okay and moving on but I was just faking myself. And then Roland happened to ask about you and how he wanted to show you his new toy, and then I ended up here and it took half an hour of scrolling through photos I swore I would delete off my phone to make me feel remotely like a person again. I should never have broken up with you, but I got scared, Killian. So, so scared.” She feels Killian go rigid around her, but now that the words have started coming out of her mouth, Emma doesn’t quite know how to stop the floodgates. “I was terrified that what we had was too good to be true, that you were going to leave me or abandon me or break my heart. So I thought I would save myself the trouble and heartbreak and break up with you first. But that completely didn’t work and it was such a mistake and obviously it just caused me all this pain and – God – I didn’t even think of how you would feel about it and I was just really dumb and I miss you so much it hurts. It feels like there is a pit and nothing I do fills the pit it just keeps getting bigger and pulling my heart down with it. And I know this is all my fault, I know that I did this to you and you probably feel just the same or worse even, and there is absolutely no reason for you to give me a second chance but _I miss you_. I really, really miss you.”

By the time Emma is done talking, Killian has relaxed around her.

“Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.” Now it is Emma’s turn to listen, and she reluctantly pulls back from she is curled up into Killian’s embrace to look him in the eye as he talks. She notices his eyes are glistening too, a few tear tracks running down his face. “I thought of your hair, and how it used to shine in the setting sun. I thought of those nights when you were sick of your contacts, so you put on your glasses and adorably read a book. I thought of you when I would go to a diner and see grilled cheese on the menu. I thought of you at night, when my bed was too big and too empty without you there.” Killian pauses, and looks away from Emma for a moment.

“Don’t think this means I am forgiving you all at once, because you did cause me a lot of pain,” he looks back down at Emma, his face gaining a small smile on it. “But it is your parent’s anniversary, and we had bought a gift together, and it was sitting on coffee table for a month as I debated coming here. When your mother called, I was already on my way, about ten minutes out.”

“You kept the gift? Even after we broke up?” Emma asks, her voice cracking on the second question.

“Aye.” Killian replies, looking down to where the box is still wrapped at their feet. “It felt a shame to give it back, as we spent so long picking it out and all.”

Emma lets out a raw laugh, her throat aching from so much crying and talking. She remembers their arguments over the gift – should they do something individual or together, should it be something practical or frivolous, should they get something individual for her mother and father or just a gift for them both – and how in one store they just happened upon the perfect gift and all the arguments faded away. Killian must be remembering too, a smile warming his face as he looks down at Emma.

As Emma’s laughs quiet down, she looks up at Killian. His arms are still wrapped around her, and Emma feels whole again in his embrace.

“So what do we do now?” Emma asks quietly, her hand finding its way to play with the hair at the base of Killian’s neck. His eyes close, something akin to pleasure forming on his face. Emma’s fingers stop their ministrations and his eyes open up again.

“I’d say we give your parents our gift, don’t you?” Killian replies.  

“And then what?”

“And then we see from there.”


End file.
